


Limitless Mediocrity

by Val_Creative



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Male Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuri narrowed his black eyes at the occupants of the room, purposely ignoring the astonishment coming off of everyone. "I'm not interested in marrying out of gain. I'm not interested in marrying anyone else for that matter."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

*

 

The afternoon groundskeeper, freshly sun-burnt in his hands and pressing the sweat collecting on the nape of his neck with a linen handkerchief, kept his head tipped forward at the noise of boots crunching against the pebble walkway.

"Your Excellency von Bielefeld?"

A strand of crinkled yellow-blond slipped beneath the straw sunhat shielding the boy's features. Hastily, he tucked it back out of view though knowing he had already been caught.

The intruder to his peace, one of his personal guards, made no external expression as if he had not addressed his superior, and said simply with a slight bow, "The Maoh is searching for you. I did not inform him of your whereabouts. Should I perhaps let him know that you are unavailable?"

"No need." Wolfram surveyed out of the corner of his eyes a wandering Yuuri who suddenly waved in their direction from across the castle's grounds, shouting something unintelligible given the distance. "He has found me," Wolfram announced, quietly.

_"Oi!"_

He turned to his guard calmly. "You may take your leave."

"Would you like me to secure the area for privacy?"

The Mazoku paused, fiddling with the wide brim of his hat, mulling over his decision before nodding, "Yes. I think that would be appropriate." As the other magic-caster disappeared into the hedges, Wolfram went back to clipping the rosebushes, hands slick and tightened with anticipation.

_"Wolfram! There you are!"_

Yuuri smiled cheerfully, panting as he stood over the crouching boy with his knees planted in the dirt. "…Hey, why are you out of your uniform?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Emerald green eyes looked sharply up at Yuuri. "I wanted a disguise so no one could interrupt me."

"... _oh_."

A light flushing swept over Yuuri's cheeks, the delightful pink color painfully distracting the other boy from his weeding tasks. It was absolutely infuriating... what made this creature so appealing? "I-I didn't mean to bother you. Conrad came to me asking for you and I remembered you saying once you liked the flowers in the courtyard, so—"

A dull twinge of _-something-_ beat callously into his chest, materialized to slither nauseating and rotten into his stomach. At first unnoticed to his companion still on a apologetic tangent, Wolfram instinctively curled an arm to himself at the hot, ugly sensation. Could it…be…? _Realization._

_He didn't come for me._

_He doesn't want to stay here._

_He doesn't love me._

"Wolfram?"

Large black eyes widened at the sight of his friend's light shuddering. Yuuri dropped a knee and moved closer. "What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?" He eyed the seven-inch steel cutting shears in Wolfram's right hand momentarily before brushing the backs of his index and middle finger along the angle of Wolfram's face.

He selfishly allowed those seconds of the other boy's heat, the satin feel of Yuuri to creep slowly into his psyche, and then slapped his hand away pointedly.

"Don't touch me."

Wolfram fought to overlook the hurt evident in Yuuri's tone, pretending it didn't _hurt him_ as the half-Mazoku spoke up gently, "I was seeing if you felt warm…"

"I've been outside, _fool;_ of course I'm a little warm! It's not going to hurt me to be out here for a couple hours!"

Yuuri replied calmly, informatively, "You've been missing all day."

_As if you'd notice. Someone probably told you that._

The fire-caster squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as his equilibrium dipped slightly to the left. He let the shears fall into the dirt as his right hand instead rose to cover his thinning mouth. "See? There _is_ something wrong with you. Let's go inside before you get sick."

_You don't care._

Rather than speak this loathing, Wolfram felt his throat begin to burn and he gripped onto his companion as a invisible wave of heat slammed into his system.

Yuuri lifted him up by the armpits, snaking an arm around his heaving waist and adjusted one of Wolfram's arms over his shoulder so he could take most of the weight, "Come on…can you move…Wolfram…?" He hesitated, silently observing as the color of the blond's face tinted itself with different shades of green. "Oh."

As Wolfram doubled over to dry heave into the nearby hedges, Yuuri held back his moistened bangs, stroking the length of his back until the fit passed.

With the soaked, white material of his shirt plastered to his neck and torso, he mumbled irritably as Yuuri continued to hold him up, " _What…did I say…about touching…me, wimp?_ " His complaints lessened as exhaustion set in place of queasiness and Wolfram burrowed his nose into the heavy, textured front of Yuuri's school uniform.

Unsure of what to do but not very embarrassed with the current situation, the other boy wrapped Wolfram into a loose embrace against his chest where the blond seemed most intent on staying, lacing his fingers together around his back.

" _Yuuri…it's very difficult…to sleep on you…when…your heart feels…like it's going…to explode from your chest…_ "

Smiling a little at his comment, Yuuri insisted, "I don't think I make a very nice pillow, Wolfram. You are better off lying in bed. C'mon, you need rest."

When he stepped ahead, the blond flexed his fingers deeper into the black fabric, causing him to stop right away. " _I would like it better…if you were a bit…more calm…_ "

"Should I be nervous about something?"

" _You tell me….it's your heart…_ "

"Maybe being with you makes me a little nervous."

Not being able to tell if there was any teasing mixed in the his words, Wolfram commanded softly, willing the faint glistening in his eyes and the newly formed burning to recede, " _Take me inside_."

Yuuri hesitated. "Should I just...?"

" _N_ _ow_."

Obeying, his fiancé— _how long would that last_ — scooped up Wolfram's legs from beneath him, hearing not a single complaint, making for the castle as the friendless straw hat tumbled soundless into the manicured clutches of the rosebushes.

 

*


	2. Chapter Two

*

 

"How is Wolfram doing?"

The resident healer of Blood Pledge Castle flicked the end of her dark green-colored braid over her arm, falling back startled from the taller speaker popping into view unexpectedly.

"Sir Weller! You gave me a fright!" She let out a low laugh, pressing a hand anxiously over the space of her heart. "Yes, His Excellency seems to be nursing a high fever. I can't be too sure of the source but one can only assume that stress could be playing a part in the matter."

Brown eyes narrowed gently. "Stress?" Conrad asked.

"He's talking very little when I address him. And appears to be sullen about something. He may be making himself ill without knowing it." Gisela smiled kindly, leaving him in the corridor without expecting an answer. "I would recommend some cheering up," she told him.

_'Not sure how well I can accomplish that.'_

Taking his chances, Conrad crossed the threshold.

His younger half-brother never noticed the bedchamber door being pushed open, or acknowledged another approaching presence as Wolfram stared fixated at the double windows. And Conrad would not question why his little brother was acting so strangely... adorned in his traditional blue uniform but curled in his oversize bed despite the heat, knuckles turned bone white from clenching the cotton summer blankets, and still staring so intently, a thin leak of moisture gathering from the outer corner of his eye.

Standing at the foot of the mattress, the swordsman finally broke the silence, "Wolfram?"

He did not reply but eventually one of Wolfram's slender hands came up to his left cheek to brush away the visible tears. He sniffed, gulping twice before speaking softly, "What is it, Weller? I've already had someone interrogate me this afternoon and I don't particularly feel the need for more."

"I just heard from His Majesty that you weren't feeling well and decided to see you." Conrad waited, never moving or blinking. He stated truthfully, "He _is_ worried about you."

Wolfram gave a offhanded sneer to no one particular, as if to say _highly doubt that_ , and finally met his big brother's focused stare with a familiar mask and went straight to business tones, "What did you want to ask me earlier?" When it became apparent that Conrad had no idea what he was talking about, he sighed, reminding him, "Yuuri told me you were searching for me. I assumed to converse…?"

"I thought we could fit in some training practice today but this can no longer be the case."

Wolfram argued as Conrad headed for the exist, crawling over his sheets, though feebly, "I can still train, Weller. Don't think—"

"— _Not like this you can't_."

Wolfram sat back down on his haunches, bright green eyes widening indignant at the reprimanding.

"Once you get your fever under control, we can discuss training." There were no arguments given as Conrad shut the metal-edged door behind him. Though he felt apologetic, Wolfram should have known that he was in no condition to be running around with swords. At least for that day.

The image of his half-brother's longing but very much empty gaze through the day-lit, grand bedroom windows, that one private moment he was not meant to see— _Wolfram didn't cry alone or in public without reason_ — bothered him.

What _..._ had he been staring at?

 

*

 

"Yuuri."

Their demon king, an honorable figure to many but a child nonetheless worth protecting to him, responded to Conrad's greeting with a quick, bright smile. Yuuri's daughter took off from her father's side into a run after one of the maids, shrieking with laughter. It was plain to see the depths of how far Yuuri's admiration for his adopted kin went just by reading his posture and his eyes. No one else could make the King's black eyes soften like Greta's uncomplicated wonder could.

"She looks happy," Conrad observed, sidling by his king's side.

Yuuri Shibuya folded his arms over his purple sash, not bothering to hide a pleased chuckle as his little girl tried hastily to tag Sangria who had made a poor attempt of hiding behind a tree. "It makes me happiest to see her like this," he admitted.

The swordsman couldn't help but feel the clear awareness of pride for his godchild.

"Spoken like a true father, Yuuri."

Eyes— Yuuri's unusually round, innocent-looking eyes that could trick his enemies— looked up through untidy, black bangs. The air around him felt seemingly content in the outlook he was caught in at the present time. "I like it when you call me by my name. Since you gave me it and everything."

Rather than teasing him like he would have, the older man almost felt compelled to regret his final decision to speak and thus break Yuuri's mood.

_However..._

"Have you spoken to Wolfram yet?"

At the mere mention of his fiancé— _'men just don't get engaged to each other'_ — the teenager sobered up, the grip on his arms tensing.

"No. I haven't yet. Why, does he need to talk to me?"

"I would suggest that you visit." Conrad clasped Yuuri's shoulder warmly as he turned to leave. "Take care of him. He'll listen to you."

Yuuri nodded at him.

_'We'll see about that.'_

 

*

 

On the third level of the granite-wall corridor, he watched grimly from his bedchamber doorway as the blond Mazoku dragged his waist-scabbard along. That hand also wrapped around his abdomen as Wolfram panted heavily, leaning with his other palm flat against the marble bedchamber wall.

This was just...

_Pathetic._

"Wolfram, what are you doing?" Yuuri asked, low, exasperated.

As soon as he saw him standing in his way, Wolfram straightened up, no longer balancing on the wall and proceeded to look back skeptically. "What does it look like, wimp? I am going to train with Weller. Shut the door so I can dress."

As he stripped down from his decorative, blue jacket, unchaining his neck-piece and going for the top white buttons of his undershirt, a small blush worked its way up Yuuri's features. Taking it as an ill effect of his annoyance, he scolded Wolfram's stubbornness, coming forward, "Not sick you can't. You'll hurt yourself." He reached for Wolfram's gem-encrusted sword in his limp, right hand.

_"Since when did you start caring about what happens to me!"_

Yuuri's hand stopped in midair. Was it just him... or did his own heart just _-shrink-_ in his chest...?

He said through lips barely moving, hurt, "I've always cared..."

Enraged, Wolfram's green eyes became larger with more violent emotion, sparked brighter. His entire frame shook as his raised voice did, "Well then I must be delusional in thinking you could care less!" For a moment, the blond looked like he was struggling on his feet a bit before regaining control of his body. He buried his screwed up expression into his free hand.

"How can I be proud...to call you... _my fiancé..._ when...you _won't_..."

Without warning, he promptly collapsed onto his sword.

With terrible images of Wolfram bleeding all over his bedchamber floor, Yuuri cried out for the other boy, pulling him from the floor in his face-first position. He flipped Wolfram over onto his back, frantic hands checking over the prone form. Then remembered the sword was sheathed.

For a second, Yuuri allowed an insanely high, stress-induced giggle to escape his throat before cupping his hand over his mouth, horrified with himself.

The feeling of another's gentle fingers in his hair brought the Mazoku back to the real world. Wolfram groaned faintly in the safety of Yuuri's arms.

"Come on," Yuuri was surprised his own voice could remain so strong. "We're not fighting about this anymore; you're staying in bed."

Resisting despite his weakened circumstances, Wolfram still put up a good wrestle against him as both boys stood until Wolfram's legs no longer were guaranteed steady, sending them onto the mattress. With the blond momentarily breathless from the impact of the fall on his back, Yuuri pinned paler fingers into his own and forced them above the boy trapped underneath him. He tried his hardest to keep Wolfram still on the bed. He suspected that the other would resort to kicking when he regained his footing.

Thinking that he had the upper hand, Yuuri wedged a knee between the other boy's legs, secretly grinning with triumph.

If this had been a fair fight, if Wolfram had been at full strength, Yuuri most likely wouldn't have stood a chance. But little did Yuuri know that the pressure he created with his innocent knee would make his companion more apt to thrash about, battling not only the boy on top of him but also weird tightening sensations growing hot below the belt region.

"Wolfram, stop _struggling_ — !"

Someone outside the bedchamber cleared their throat.

It must have looked bad to an outsider. Yuuri understood that immediately.

They were both breathing raggedly, covered in sweat from the heat and their physical labor, a light apple flushing on his cheeks. Wolfram didn't fare any better with a noticeable red glow _(of the fever?)_ all over his face. He then became extremely aware that his crotch had been previously rubbing against his companion's thigh.

Needless to say.

It was a very _compromising_ scene.

One of the three in the corridor— _it sounded like Günter_ — moaned distressed. Yuuri could practically visualize the pulsing hearts surrounding Anissina (another passerby) upon realization of what this could be misinterpreted as and opened his mouth to protest, to kill the future rumors that would result.

"I don't want to hear it." Gwendal winced, shutting his eyes and elbowing the rest of the company away to close the door with a unwavering _click_.

Beneath him, Wolfram arched his back and nearly to the point of stomach contact with Yuuri's, achieving a small breathy noise. But what really distracted Yuuri from his overwhelming embarrassment was a long, limber leg bending at the knee and sliding past his waist. Black eyebrows ticked up a notch.

 _Crap_.

Two separate grunts. Yuuri went flying onto the bedchamber floor from the powerful blow, landing sprawled out onto his side.

He shook his head, grimacing a little as temporary spikes of pain went up the arm that had connected to the rug.

_'I knew he would kick.'_

Snatching up his discarded sword, huffing, Wolfram disappeared into the now vacant hallway.

 

*


	3. Chapter Three

*

 

...What was his _deal_?

Yuuri growled in an undignified manner, rubbing at the irritated elbow he had fallen on. What was so important about training with Conrad that he had to _KICK HIM OFF THE BED_?

Raising from his sprawled out position, Yuuri shuffled over to the windows to lean on. Through them and directly below near the front of the grounds, Wolfram argued nastily with one of his personal guards atop of his white stallion, one hand firm on the butt of his sword. Yuuri observed this scene both spellbound and disgusted as Wolfram got his way, taking off swiftly for the drawbridge leading into town.

... _Crapcrapcrap_!

"Where is he going?" Yuuri shouted on the first level as he chased after Wolfram's sandy-haired guard who in turn bowed respectably but still crossly to him.

"Wherever he is going Your Majesty, he _certainly_ wanted to go alone."

"Can you catch up with him? Convince him to come back! He can't run around like this!"

Wolfram's guard continued to speak with his head tilted forward, but his voice softened cunningly, "…...pardon me for speaking out of my place, your Majesty… but if you could order me as this country's King, then… I would have no choice _but_ to obey your commands..."

"Then," Yuuri's round, black eyes set with consequence, "as your King— I order you to follow Wolfram. If something goes wrong or if he is in danger of hurting himself, you must bring him back to this castle safely and immediately." Awkwardly, he broke character to add with a sheepish grin. " _Ah_ …please."

Hiding a fleeting smirk from his king, the sandy-haired guard made a courteous crossing-motion with his right arm before breaking into a sprint for the stables.

Thankful but sincerely apprehensive about the ongoing events, Yuuri decided to distract his troubled mind by waving to a oncoming Gwendal and then thought better of it when it was too late. The older man appeared severely more tense than he usually could be. Not liking how deeply the wrinkles on his forehead were obvious from far off, Yuuri waited until the green-clad commander gestured to him to follow into a separate chamber.

Conrad, Cecilie-sama, Murata, Yozak, and Günter stared with different degrees of patience and eerie expectation of the two figures entering.

"So...what's going on? Don't tell me the Ten Noble Families had another meeting about me," Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Yuuri said this jokingly, laughing and stopping cold when not even Conrad cracked a smile. Murata adjusted his glasses and coughed.

Gwendal stepped forward, not making direct eye contact with anything but the long, shining wooden table seating everyone.

"They met earlier this week to illicitly discuss your personal matters," he said, gruffly.

Yuuri blinked. "Personal... matters?"

Indigo eyes met Yuuri's confused expression.

"The question was not about the power you have to control this country, but your devotion," he explained. "They want proof and suitable proof. They want a marriage for you. It is believed that you once you are married... it will be shown that you are indeed worthy for your position and committed to remaining in this country. The question was also raised about the length of time you have been engaged to Wolfram von Bielefeld and whether you are involved in the engagement merely for show. They find it dishonest. Many of the Families have a deep respect for Wolfram and would not wish to see him in a selfish marriage. Suggestions came up about another engagement for you... perhaps to another noble woman."

"Even an heir being produced with a female in a loveless union would suffice," Murata said bitterly out of the corner of his mouth, causing the muscular redhead next to him to smile agreeably.

Günter clenched his teeth, flushing darkly and angrily. "What do they have against my Heika marrying someone of the same sex?"

"It's complete nonsense."

"A girlfriend would be nice..." Yuuri contemplated mildly, not really getting the full weight of the situation until a few moments in. He jerked once, eyes widening. "WAIT! _MARRIED?_ "

Cecilie-sama clapped her hands together, looking hopefully between Gwendal and her son's fiancé. "But if Yuuri-heika and Wolfie finally get married— then there shouldn't be a problem, right?" Taking note of Yuuri's drained enthusiasm as this was said, Conrad spoke up softly, "It's not as simple as that, Mother."

Whispering into his ear, she replied unhappily, "It should have been."

Yuuri opened his mouth, needing to talk, and closed it quickly and solemnly when the gray-haired commander dismissed everyone to arrange the next meeting for two days time.

_No one trusts me._

_Even the kingdom I rule over doesn't trust me enough.  
_

_Would that be my only way out now?_

 

*

 

Honestly, Yuuri didn't know who looked cuter.

His little Greta sitting in Wolfram's lap, totally absorbed with the story being told from one of her father's lips— or Wolfram himself, fooling around with her light brown curls with one inattentive hand and holding up the storybook with the other— the pastel pink material of his nightgown scrunched up around the tops of his pale legs.

It was amazing how Wolfram could be...

"If you going to sleep in the doorway tonight, kindly inform the rest of us," he stated, still glancing down at the storybook.

Yuuri snapped out of his trance, shaking his head three or four times as his little girl giggled aloud and the other boy smirked good-natured.

Sweeping up his daughter off her feet when Greta raced over to attack-hug him around the waist, Yuuri said to Wolfram, "You look a lot better. Did you eat anything?"

"Dinner. Stop sounding like Mother." Wolfram stared piercingly into his eyes, seemingly no longer in a good mood and shifted on the mattress to place down Anissina's book. In the process, one of his creamy-white shoulders slipped free of the nightgown's grasp, luring back Yuuri's attention.

"Your face reminds me of how the dirty old men look at me."

Blushing a little, Yuuri frowned and set his little girl back down. "Why do you still wear that old thing? It's starting to unravel at the bottom. And you look like a girl in it. It's weird."

A blond eyebrow cocked, unabashed. "It was to ease you into the transition of our engagement but you have a valid point," Wolfram said. "I suppose this is no longer needed, but I now enjoy the freedom it gives me to move around."

Wolfram crossed a leg over the other. For a moment Yuuri got a brief peek of his tight, black underwear.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had not been wearing underwear. He had seen Wolfram completely naked on more than one occasion— but ever since Greta had taken to sleeping with both of them, the blond wore the familiar looking bikini-string without complaint and when asked, Wolfram answered that he wore it also as a symbol of pride to being the Maoh's fiancé.

"Don't girls wear nightgowns?" Greta's innocent question caused one of the boys to snort with laughter and the other to darken. Yuuri wiped tears from his eyes. "Yes, they actually do."

"Wimp!

_I._

_Am._

_Not._

_A._

_Woman._ "

Yuuri made a thoughtful face, mumbling, "I wonder sometimes..." He stumbled after getting conked in the head by a particularly large, fluffy, goose-feather pillow.

Not wanting to seem like a weakling by a cheering Greta, he went to exact his revenge by crawling up over Wolfram on the bed and tickling the sides of his sensitive stomach. Wolfram howled, laughing too hard to protest, and the darker-haired boy grinned manically down on him. "Had enough? All you have to do is admit defeat."

Caught in the spirit of things, the other boy used his strength to flip Yuuri beneath him, pinning Yuri's arms to his sides and gasping noisily, " _Once is enough_."

The significance of those words faltered their actions. Mesmerized by the burning silence, Yuuri stared up at his companion, mouth parting wordless. The weight of Wolfram's bare, lower thighs, the urgent, almost-human press against Yuuri's uniform-clothed torso felt... wrong.

 

*


	4. Chapter Four

*

 

_A gorgeous blond had their hands inside his shirt._

_Too bad Yuuri was feeling too uptight to notice._

_"There's the pin," Wolfram exclaimed aloud, satisfied, slipping his right hand free from Yuuri's black gakuran-like shirt and corrected the slant of the purple sash, smoothing out invisible wrinkles with a few quick sweeps of his fingertips._

_"Aaaah…why do I have to do this again?"_

_The fire-caster scowled at his the reluctance for the subject matter. "It's only customary to attend a meeting when_ YOU _are invited, Yuuri. The nobles would be offended if you didn't come. Gwendal included."_

_Terrified by the very thought of seeing the commander in any way mad_ _, he shivered involuntarily, and Wolfram ceased his endeavor of fitting the golden braids in a single loop._

_"Wimp, I demand you stop moving around!"_

_"Don't call me a wimp!" Yuuri argued until he heard his companion hiss in pain. The pin used to fasten the braids pricked itself into Wolfram's thumb. They watched for several seconds in silence as a bead of blood red developed, swelling and dropping onto the ground._

_Yuuri said before the other boy could blame him for the injury, "Eh…no good, no good." He gently cradled Wolfram's hand and straightforwardly kissed the tiny wound, smiling reassuringly. "All better."_

_Completely ignorant to Wolfram's utter shock from the gesture that didn't seem so innocent, Yuuri asked, "Did it stain?" He let go and inspected the sash for any dark spots._

_Wolfram stepped forward. After a minute, Yuuri looked up and in turn backed into a nearby table, jostling the tablecloth and spilling a green, glass vase behind him as Wolfram stopped just short of full body contact with him. Unsure, he stretched his pale fingers out. Yuuri didn't know why… but his temperature was rising… "Wolfram?"_

_As the lasting syllable of his friend's name left his drying lips, those white fingers wedged his chin between them and urged Yuuri's face to level his._

_"_ — _Look, Yuuri! Greta is a flower girl!"_

_The pair froze at the sound of small, fast approaching footsteps. Yuuri focused in on his little girl sprinting into the chamber-room, spinning in a circle to show off, and clutching the bundles of turquoise-dyed petticoats and ribbons on her dress. She beamed at both of them, unmindful to the previous happening._

_"Doria said I could wear this to Yuuri and Wolfram's wedding! We are going to make Wolfram's bouquet outside with the flowers in the garden!" She giggled, wiggling excited before taking off in a flash of blue and brown curls, leaving the two remaining occupants strangely hushed._

_Yuuri chuckled self-consciously, relieved that his companion had moved away, and made an endeavor to break the suddenly unpleasant air._

_"I still get nervous when they talk about the whole married thing_ —"

_Emerald green dimmed out as he interrupted him seriously, "I have almost forgotten. I suppose this discussion was eventual. The mistake of us becoming engaged." Hearing it admitted out loud, hearing Wolfram say it so coldly, Yuuri visibly cringed._

_"I'm sorry, Wolfram. You know, you are the closest person to me." He confessed sadly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Even more than Conrad. You are like my best friend."_

_"But you don't like me?"_

_Yuuri frowned, puzzled._

_"…I like you fine…"_

_The magic-caster fisted his hands, setting his jaw in frustration. "But you don't_ LIKE _me, Yuuri. As I do you," he confirmed.  
_

_Dark eyes flashed in understanding before lowering with embarrassment. "Wolfram, if I can make this up to you, just say it. You have my word."_

_The other boy repeated faintly, "Your word? Anything?"_

_"I swear it." Yuuri inserted for good measure, smiling goofy, "Except, you know, the whole marriage thing of course."_

_"Then you must do this one thing for me and you have to swear right now to never break your word."_

_"Promise, Wolfram."_

_Green eyes shone beautifully, the gravity of his words more than undeniable. "You must never fall in love with me." Genuinely stunned, the king's jaw slipped open and it only seemed to agitate the blond further._ _"Stop it Yuuri. If you truly intend to break our engagement then it is forever. I will not accept you back and I will not ask for your hand."_

_"Is this what you want, Wolfram? Honestly?"_

_"Make your decision now. I'm tired of being led on."_

_At the forewarning of shimmering, angry tears to overcome his friend, he nodded solemnly, supportive and concerned._

_Choking a little, Wolfram fiercely grabbed him by his front, biting his shaking fingers into the cloth._

_"_ SWEAR IT TO ME _!"_

_"I swear! Gee..."_ _Yuuri held his breath awestruck as the other boy collapsed against him like indistinguishable strings once holding up his pride completely unfurled, hiding his face. After a moment or two of gathering his wits, absorbing the sensation of Wolfram sobbing into his chest, Yuuri brought his arms around him slowly._

 

*

 

" _…the dress is nice… ...try the ramen… he was tagged out, Coach…..._ "

From the sleeper in the grand chair and slightly hidden by stacks of unmarked, important bills and notices, a nasally snore cut off his chain of mumbles.

The second occupant of the Demon Army Commander's office— none other than the Commander himself— cleared his throat gruffly, restraining the beginnings of a twitch itching to seize his left eyebrow. The third and fourth occupant, one clad in khaki and the other navy, impassive in their positions against the wall behind them with arms crossed.

 _"...…not my type…I want a blond…_ "

A heavy fist slammed onto the desktop abruptly, achieving its goal of startling the boy from his slumber. Half in a stupor, Yuuri glanced dazedly at the fist only inches from his face and then the owner. "Gwendal… what are you doing in my bedroom?"

One of the people behind him gave an unreadable smirk as the other rolled their bright green eyes.

The Demon King of their beloved country, feared across unidentified human lands, and revered everywhere else as the wisest, kindest, and strongest of all the Maous to exist— rubbed his eyelids as if he were no more than child awaken rudely from his nap time.

" _Aaaah_ … my eyes sting…"

Before Gwendal could have a chance to tell him off about slacking, _and in front of him too_ — Yosak came bursting through the only door.

"Young Master… we have a problem…"

 

*

 

"Invasion?"

To answer His Majesty's confusion, Yosak clarified, still somewhat panting. "Some of the Demon Race troops— we have reason to suspect they overran a human village outside Caloria for an escaped convict that was being protected and hidden. Shortly afterwords, the troops started raiding the village and the humans started fighting back."

He flicked a strand of orange, wrinkled bang out of his eye, staring back into dark eyes gravely. "It has simply gotten out of hand."

"Then we need to stop everyone before more humans and soldiers get hurt." Shoving back his seat, Yuuri stood up, causing everyone else to straighten up. "Lead the way, Yosak." Nodding, the older man went back out into the hallway, and the boy hesitated when a firm comforting hand grasped his shoulder.

Conrad said in a whisper, his free hand lightly resting on his gem-red sword, "Your Majesty, make sure to bring Morgif. And don't stray too far from us."

In agreement, Yuuri unconsciously patted the warm hand still clasping at him and separated from him as he went to retrieve said demon sword. Just a couple feet from the stables where Dakaskos waited with his horse, he called over to an galloping figure on top of a white stallion.

"Are you coming, too, Wolfram?"

Yanking at the reins, the magic-caster brought himself to a standstill and gazed down at him seriously. "As your subject, I am obligated to protect you, wimp." With that being said, he turned away grumpily and rode off without another word.

Not minding at all to disregard the wimp comment this time, Yuuri ran off in the opposite direction to straddle up.

 

*

 

The smudge of black smoke in the distance become more distinct as they drew close the human village and the hazy cries underneath the sounds of men and battle. The horse Yuuri rode grew skittish as they neared their destination. Feeling that gut instinct of apprehension for where they were heading, he stroked the silky mane in front of him. "I feel it, too. It's going to be okay, boy."

From his right side, Conrad corrected him, "It's a girl."

"Oh. Then it will be okay, _girl_."

The first rank of their soldiers made it into the village, though barely so without rushing or trampling the flow of fleeing men and women making for the safety of the fields outside town. The ones who did realize who they were sent open, hateful glares but more directly towards Yuuri who stood out in his status the most.

"They have not been able to meet Your Majesty. Don't let it get to you." Conrad said, as if reading Yuuri's mind, and fell back to talk to another soldier.

Struggling to keep a blank or at least helpful face for the villagers staring in agitation, not wanting to reveal any melancholy for their attitude, Yuuri maintained a steady pace on his horse. He had not been expecting the smaller female child who darted between his horse's legs.

Whinnying in terror, the horse bucked hard, sending the teenager flying in midair who had panicked and forgotten to keep his grip on the reins.

" _Yuuri_!"

He anticipated the sickening feel of his head cracking open, bones to break, his elbows and backside to bruise up from the angle he was falling, but not for something soft and very much solid to catch him. Both of their bodies crashed onto the dirt road, Yuuri very much wide-eyed and protectively held in someone else's arms.

Associating his rescuer with the baritone voice of Conrad who had shouted for him, Yuuri rolled over onto his knees, asking concerned, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Are you hurt?" Nonchalantly, Wolfram sat up to dust himself off. Surprised, black eyes glanced up at the empty saddle of the white stallion neighing quietly in close proximity as Conrad stole the reins and then the blond Mazoku who glared at Yuuri's befuddled expression. "Well? Are you? Did the fall rattle your brain that hard?"

"No. No, sorry, I'm not hurt." He laughed shakily, rising to his feet and extending his hand to him. "Need a hand up?"

Wolfram stared at the tanned hand as if were a venomous creature waiting to strike.

Coming to break the awkward silence lodged between them, Conrad rode up, brown eyes softening as he addressed Yuuri, "Are you okay, Heika?"

"Other than acting like he's had an unexpected revelation, he should be fine." The fire-caster hoisted himself by the stirrup of his horse's saddle, going into a circle once before hurtling out of sight to leave the only two by themselves.

"Many of the rogue soldiers have already been detained. Our troops have only ran into a couple hostile humans and no one has been hurt." Conrad answered mildly the question in Yuuri's troubled eyes as he helped the teenager onto Conrad's own chestnut-colored horse. As they searched out for Gwendal and the rest, they stumbled upon a hostage situation.

A cluster of shrieking and weeping human children and women forcibly being separated from each other. The soldiers wearing various shades of blue— both light and dark— thick brown belt buckles, and steel helmets, roughly threw the resisting children over their metal-plated shoulders as they made for the fields.

As one of the human women (auburn-haired, face set determinedly) sprinted from the line of quivering females, one of the taller soldiers nearby grabbed her outstretched arm and pulled her towards him to ram his long sword mercilessly and entirely through her torso, bright red flowing freely down the backs of her legs.

Yuuri didn't realize he had been screaming at the top of his lungs until he was running full force towards the collapsed woman despite Conrad's yells. As his own soldiers went to capture the enemy soldiers and escort the villagers away, as they remained a good distance away from him in case the Maou's powers decided to erupt to seek justice, Yuuri dropped immediately to his knees beside the woman and seized her blood-soaked hand tightly with his clean.

She squinted one detestable lavender eye up at him, the silver-decorative sword smeared with her blood protruding from her green and white plaid apron— something his own Mother would have owned— shuddering weakly at his tender and reassuring skin upon hers dying of warmth.

" _Don't touch me, you vile creature of Hell….you brought this disaster upon us…my children will never see the light of another day because of you.'_

 _You will be the end of all us...human and demon._ "

 

*

 

"And nothing happened?"

Murata, Wolfram, and Conrad spied from the corridor as Yuuri, strangely obedient and uncomplaining, mechanically signed the heaps of paperwork. It was very much not like Yuuri to do it _willingly_. Murata's glasses flashed curiously as the brown-haired swordsman shook his head.

"Even if it was human land, Shibuya can summon the necessary power. I wonder why he did nothing."

"He was busy taking care of the human woman who had been killed. When one of her little brats broke free from the ring of other children and started beating Yuuri on his chest, he told us to not to stop him because he would wear himself out eventually. And when the child finally did, Yuuri hugged him. _Hmmrph_. The wimp," Wolfram recollected without animosity, but in fact never tearing his eyes from the unsmiling Maou.

"This woman must have said something to Shibuya that struck too deeply. If we try to intrude on his thoughts of what happened, something in him may break. It's best he's left alone to figure things out for himself now." Murata gestured for them all to follow down the stone hallway. "That means you too, Your Excellency."

Avoiding his half brother's thoughtful gaze, Wolfram made another reserved noise, turning up his nose a little, and went for the other end of the castle.

 

*

 

Yuuri never showed to dinner. Not surprising.

Much later in the evening, Wolfram waited impatiently for his bedmate, seemingly ready for bed in his frilly pink nightgown but unable to drift into any state of restful slumber.

Hovering over Greta who had been out cold for a good three hours and adjusting the cotton blankets over her neck for what felt like the two-hundredth time, he lovingly brushed the delicate, brown curls out her pouting face and settled his hand on the very top of her head.

He could understand that Yuuri must have been feeling empathy for the dead woman, but what if she had tried to kill him if she had gotten the chance? She had been obviously one of the humans who hated the Mazoku. The very thought of someone's hands— _murderous, unclean hands in anyway touching Yuuri_ —

One or two sparks of orange and red magical power seeped from the fingertips of the hand not resting on Greta. At the same time, the bedchamber door creaked open slowly.

Slipping off his uniform-coat and letting it hit the floor noiseless, Yuuri walked across the room without so much as an acknowledgment to him, halting by the windowsill of the moonlit windows. And stayed there. During those few minutes, Wolfram became more exasperated. He rose up, muttering under his breath, " _Fool…_ "

Coming forward to snatch Yuuri's shoulder, perhaps to appease him, or shake him was uncertain. Wolfram never got the opportunity to think it out that far.

"Yuuri, about—"

He gasped, emerald green eyes bugging out, viewing almost in slow motion as the other boy cut his action short. Yuuri wrapped his hand around Wolfram's and used the momentum to pull Wolfram's body against his.

The second they did, when chests met, Yuuri squeezed the hand he had secured without mercy and tilted his head sideways to press his eager mouth against the blond's.

Eyelids growing heavy— ( _why…?_ )— Wolfram rooted to his spot on the carpet, his fingernails digging ruthlessly to Yuuri's skin but it did nothing to discourage him. He unthinkingly cupped the left side of Wolfram's face, sliding inviting fingers underneath his jaw and against his earlobe, deepening the kiss and begging Wolfram to do the same with a light push of his tongue. Yielding a little, he opened his mouth to receive Yuuri's kiss (... _when did Yuuri know to do this?_ ) that caused his stomach to tighten ( _happy_ …?) and Wolfram's head to spin dizzily.

" _Mmh…_ "

Fully closing his eyes, the blond forgot whatever he wanted to discuss with him, and snaked impatient arms around Yuuri's neck. Their hands threaded hair both black and yellow, crawling, searching.

Pulling away with a noisy, wet smack, Yuuri swallowed hard, reopening his eyes to stare heatedly ( _when did he get like this?_ ) into him.

Wolfram could feel impulsive breath ghosting his face, the ( _inexperienced?_ ) hand that had held Wolfram's face as if it were a precious object disappearing, and his own body responding in ways he wasn't familiar with. Like when Yuuri held him down to the bed. His body _liked_ being so close to him. _A lot._

"Wolfram—"

 _(But_ …something wasn't _right_ _…)_

"will you marry me?"

 

*


	5. Chapter Five

*

 

_Marry…?_

His lips, still burning from fierce kisses, reddened and chapped, parted to express... _"You fool."_

Stepping out of the other boy's ( _oddly_ ) bold reach, Wolfram snarled, "How _... dare_ you even _think_ for a second that you are allowed to toy with my emotions."

The tan hand once holding his cheek dropped away. His companion's face revealed nothing. "I thought it would make you happy."

He choked back the wild urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation.

"No, Yuuri. I daresay it did just the opposite of what you wanted. Does your word as this country's King mean so little? Do _I_ mean so little to you?" The Mazoku touched his hand to his chest, unable to feel the angry, rapid pulsing of his heart through his fingertips. A heart he believed Yuuri worked hard to return to him.

"I can't express your meaning to me. How much I desire and still desire to remain at your side. You should feel honored to know—" Wolfram's breath caught. "You were the first and only person I have ever loved with such abandonment. Brother would be ashamed of me—"

The sounds of someone shifting on the mattress behind him closed off the rest of what he wanted to say.

Greta poked her head out of the canopy, blinking sleepily.

"Wolfram? Where is Yuuri? Did he not come back yet?"

"Go back to sleep, darling. We'll be in bed in a moment," Wolfram pleaded to her, wiping his eyes quickly with the back of his hands before turning to face her.

She stared with fright at the person behind him.

"...Who is that?"

"What are you talking about? It's Yuuri. Go back to sleep, I promise we'll come to bed soon, alright?" He was not at all assured by how Greta gripped the sheets to herself, as if terrified that letting go meant the monsters would get her. She began to cry heavily into them, her voice muffled.

"That's not Yuuri! Where's Yuuri, Wolfram? I want _Daddy_!"

As her weeping became louder, the air behind him grew steadily colder.

His sword was propped up on the sill of the bedchamber door. Too far away.

Slowly, Wolfram drew in a tight inhale and made eye contact with the stranger in the bedchamber. A big flash of a stunning, blue light gulped him up completely before a sense of nothingness.

 

*

 

His cement-heavy eyelids twitched.

Who the _HELL_ said it was _alright_ to make so many _STOMPING_ noises so early?

Undoing his crossed, heavy arms and lifting himself from Gwendal's desk, Yuuri gazed around the office blearily. Fantastic. He had fallen asleep doing paperwork. Rubbing momentarily at his sore chest from the angle he had been, Yuuri twisted the half of his upper body around as a noisy knock came from the wood door.

"Eh—c…come in?"

One of Gwendal's guards opened his mouth to speak and then realized who it was, quickly sweeping into a low bow. "Forgive me for interrupting you, Your Majesty. I did not know you were busy in the Commander's quarters."

"It's nothing, it's nothing." The teenager wiggled his hand up and down, smiling. "I was…uh, just finishing. Is there something going on? I've been hearing a lot of noise."

" _HEIKA_! HEEEEEEEEEEIKA~!"

Yuuri coughed violently on a mouthful of purple hair that flew into his mouth as a tall, white blur quickly seized him into a bone-crushing hug, yanking him out of Gwendal's chair.

It almost felt like fountain of tears were drenching the back of his uniform as Günter sobbed quite loudly into his ear. Still experiencing the ringing even after his adviser was forced away, Yuuri absently dug his index finger into his ear canal frowning before gazing appreciatively up at his savior.

The smile was not returned. Conrad in fact looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. He clasped one of his shoulders gently, surprising Yuuri a little with the sudden gesture. "I'm very glad to see you unharmed, your Majesty."

"It's _Yuuri._ How many times do I have to…?" He paused, frowning, "What do you mean? Did Wolfram send the entire castle into a man hunt? I know I didn't go to sleep in the room last night, but—"

"It is better that you had not."

Yuuri blinked, not liking how Conrad's eyes were so serious. " _What_? Did something happen?" His round. black eyes widened in fear. " _Greta_ —!"

"They have gone missing."

 

*

 

He must have been lying there for days. Wolfram's legs and arms had no feeling to them; the muscles seemed shrunken in their sockets. It probably wouldn't have helped anyway since he couldn't see. It was daylight, yes, Wolfram could feel the warm sunlight from a window somewhere in the room. But his opened eyes saw only the darkness.

Gasping hoarsely with his right cheek cold and flat to a unaccustomed, smooth-stone floor, he wished for the strength at least to hold his daughter's hand.

She had been crying beside him for what seemed to be hours, shrilly calling his name, asking where they were, who that man was, calling for Yuuri, for her mother. Eventually Greta became quiet. It was more alarming than her weeping— _he didn't know where she was_ — until the young girl drifted off into sleep with her soft head to his back. When Greta woke, seeing no change in his condition, she took to petting his hair for comfort and verbally reassuring him (and perhaps herself) that Yuuri would come and save them.

Despite being useless, Wolfram could still make sense of one thing.

Wherever they were, there had been _Houseki_. And _LOTS_ of it. And that would explain why Greta was not being harshly affected at all as he was. Sometime… _sometime…_ their incarcerators had to let their guard down. Some flaw, some mistake, some opening, and he would take it. Take Greta and leave. Take revenge later.

His deadened, green eyes ticked a notch in size as light footsteps purposely stopped outside.

"… _greta,_ " he whispered.

Her tiny, warm fingers in his sweat-weighed, blond locks stilled.

" _don't be afraid…"_

She tucked her little arms around his middle, burrowing her forehead into his shoulder. He could imagine her brave smile in his head.

"Okay, Wolfram."

 

*

 

"You think this has something to do with it?"

Yuuri couldn't even make eye contact with Wolfram's mother. To see that sort of disappointment and fear mirroring back into his consciousness. He instead stared at Gwendal standing behind her chair, keeping a firm grip on her thin, trembling shoulders. Günter, Murata, and Conrad stood off to the side watching him as Yosak nodded from the doorway.

"The attack on the human village is something more recent. We shouldn't rule anything out, Young Master. The Demon Race has many enemies. Many of them could be Lord von Bielefeld's."

"Then we should make a trip to see Flynn-san. Maybe she can help us," Yuuri said, looking back skeptically at the muscular redhead who nodded in agreement.

"I'm coming with you, Heika." Conrad straightened up.

Yuuri beamed slightly at him, adding, "The more of us to go is probably a good thing." Needing no other excuse, Günter headed out (more like _WHOOOOOOOOSH_ ed) after Yosak to assist in directing sailors to gather up supplies and ready a ship. Murata made a laugh, grinning cheekily. "Might as well then," he added.

"I don't understand why you have to come…"

Yuuri raised an eyebrow suspiciously as the other Japanese boy passed him, eyeglasses glinting mischievously.

"You never know when you'll need another hand, Shibuya."

"R _iii_ ght…" He then glanced at the gray-haired commander who answered his look with a harsher _'Who will take care of your job if no one is here?'_

Black eyes then met a sight all too familiar. Emerald green eyes hurt and swimming with tears. The eyes he had been trying to avoid. He dropped to one knee in front of Cecilie-sama, grasping her hand kindly. "I'll bring them back home. I promise you this."

She then exhaled, smiling faintly, "I know you will, your Majesty."

 

  
*


	6. Chapter Six

*

 

This had to be… _just had to be_ … his personal version of Hell _._

All those hours alone in his stone-floor cell, the dry silence, the _agonizingly_ and self-loathing sincere silence of hours (or maybe it had been days, if only he could sense daylight more clearly) working to regain the use of his muscles. After time, Wolfram could finally stand but blindly on his own with the support of a cold wall.

He had once slowly paced the perimeter of his prison— a small, round chamber with one door. It wouldn't have mattered if the door had been made of flammable material, Wolfram could barely keep the strength to stay on his feet let alone summon his Maryoku.

They had _taken_ Greta from him. And he had let it happen.

Regardless of that point in time where Wolfram couldn't yet lift his head from the floor... he was a _soldier_. He was supposed to be _protecting_ her. Wolfram couldn't even do that. That following night, despite how much physical torture came as a result, Wolfram practiced bending and spanning the stiffened, lifeless fingers in his right hand.

The guards, _whoever_ fed him every so often. Possibly every other three days? Had to be done on purpose to make certain he'd remain in a weakened state. The Mazoku felt no hostility from them. But one of them. One of them must have had a fair amount of Houseki on their person because Wolfram couldn't _breathe_ when that person entered.

Sensing the pungent awareness of his blood vessels tightening in his arms, his body repulsively clammy and sticky slicking with perspiration as his uniform was, he strained himself against the solid chamber wall, adamantly refusing to succumb to his internal system begging to collapse dead away.

As the creaking hinges on the cell's door sounded, Wolfram's milky-gray face contorted to unadulterated hatred as he screamed at the top of his lungs at his kidnapper, " _WHERE IS SHE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER? GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER BACK!_ "

"There will be no requirement for this enmity between us if you stop struggling." The quiet voice, soft like a woman's but confidentially teasing between words— as if the current abduction were nothing more than a child's pretend game— "Your willpower is very interesting, Wolfram von Bielefeld. You should have died days ago."

" _WHERE IS SHE?_ "

"Your _daughter_ , I presume? Yes. She is safe, and will remain so only if you continue to play the role of an obedient pawn to me." Through the livid, unbearable buzzing noises in Wolfram's ears, he could pick up on a couple subtleties. The kidnapper wore soft-soled slippers on their feet so not to take too much noise, and the door was still open.

A warm, unfamiliar ( _but somehow still_ ) human presence stopped in front of him.

Without his eyesight, it could be felt clearly— large spots of invading white appeared in his blackened vision, combining with the long, slender spikes of pain going down Wolfram's left arm as the stranger grasped his wilted hand into a smooth, dry hand. Such friendly intimacy. Did he feel this before?

Sedated, hazed-out green eyes narrowed.

Oh… he was going to _KILL_ the bastard…

"Your thinking of the past events is indeed correct, Bielefeld. It was not your kingdom's Maou who was present in your bedchamber that evening. You fell for my hint quite easily."

 _"IF I FIND OUT THAT YOU EVEN_ TOUCHED _HIM_ —!"

"You are quite shameless for royalty, aren't you?" Another airy laugh indeed proving to be male quality. "I mean, admitting so boldly your unrequited feelings to a complete stranger. I'm sure that your family would be horrified to know what you have done. And deeply humiliated of you as well."

_…just shut up…_

"What have you to offer to your beloved Maou that he could come to love? He is far stronger than you would ever become."

_why…?_

As the Mazoku spoke the same question aloud, his abductor promptly slipped his hand free, causing the other boy to cough weakly, dizzily gripping for the stone wall behind him as Wolfram dropped onto his knees.

"Details are tiresome to explain to my servants. You are not obligated to know a reason. And now, your resist is no longer amusing to me and cannot be tolerated."

The taste on the back of Wolfram's throat was that of saliva and blood.

"I have plans for you…"

 

*

 

The cabin's mattress was too rigid. In his vividly active mind's eye, Yuuri could picture one of the sailors purposely stuffing it to the brim with swan feathers and splintered animal bones.

 _Yes._ He spread open his long-sleeved arms over the ship's wood banister, peering into the choppy, black frigid waters beckoning to him— that was the _only reason_ he couldn't sleep. No other reason at all… it would just be ridiculous…

Jolting him from his reverie, forcing him backwards against another person's body and stealing around his pajama-clad chest, a pair of thin, ruthless arms tossed him away towards the center of the small ship. Breathing heavily through his open mouth, as if he had ran a good deal in a short amount of time to this very spot, the Great Sage gazed down with unspoken accusation at the other boy who had tumbled onto his rump painfully by the heave. Yuuri shouted, rubbing at the sore area. "What the hell, Murata—?"

" _What the hell_ indeed, Shibuya! You were about to throw yourself into the ocean!"

Round, black eyes widened ( _was it in guilt_?)…

"…what? No."

"Listen, if something is troubling you, I would find it more apt to talk it out with a friend instead of choosing the suicidal means. Really," Murata admitted, genuinely smiling instead of giving him a heartless smirk, "you about gave me a heart attack."

Climbing back onto his feet, a bit shaken by the frankness, Yuuri murmured a quick, featureless apology as he tidied the crumpled hem of their traditional school gakuren.

"Are you worried about them?"

Already understanding who Murata was referring to, Yuuri acknowledged, grounding out his hopes in what he spoke were truth, "Wolfram won't let anything happen to Greta."

Murata cocked his head to the right, closing his eyes patiently as he said thoughtfully, "But that doesn't satisfy you, does it?"

_Maybe not but it doesn't matter what it takes or how long, I can't let anyone else down._

_I can't let this be my fault._

_…_

_I just want them back in my arms._

_…_

Quite suddenly, a revelation all too real in tone and quality struck him as an out-of-body experience; another identical-looking Yuuri, eyes shining with shock and reassurance, went down onto his knees as his little girl jumped into his waiting arms, her cheeks bright red from sobbing. After checking that she was not a figment of his imagination, he dropped her gently to her feet and turned sideways to gladly embrace other boy next to her. It was too good to be true, of course. The secure feelings of having Wolfram's strongly muscled body in his possession, absorbing something so unquestionably familiar, taken in entirely by the faintly sweetened smells of where he had been

…

( _pine trees, Wolfram sometimes trained his soldiers past the castle's grounds; apricots, Lasagna liked to use them for breakfast drinks_ )

and wanting, no, _needing_ to trace this memory forever and to let it sink beneath his fingertips.

…

Beyond a sense of control, Yuuri watched his doppelganger stretching forward towards the blond's anticipating face and — _WHOA_ , what brought this on? Snapping out of it, he immediately decided that whatever matter his subconscious wanted to escalate into with mental importance would have to wait for later.

It didn't help that Murata was now staring at him from his two-foot distance as if he could plainly see Yuuri's inner mind-theater _(1)_ at work.

"I see… You probably won't be satisfied with this situation until you can get them both physically in your arms. It's to be expected, of course."

_'Already ahead of you… wait, stop reading my mind!'_

A cunning smirk broadened to a grin for a couple seconds before dispersing altogether for a newer, more sober mood. "How long are you going to pretend—"

Foreseeing this to be another lecture he didn't require, Yuuri argued, "I'm not pretending!"

"This isn't about _you_ , Shibuya."

With a loud, strangled noise, Yuuri hesitated.

Not at all feeling apologetic, Murata said, giving his friend a rare, severe look, "Let me finish. This isn't all about you. How long are you going to pretend that the relationship between Lord von Bielefeld and yourself is strictly regulation for a misstep? Surely you can't be that dense." He let a very long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop an oncoming migraine.

"But I think it would be better that I not give you anymore influence in decision. You will have to find out for yourself what you want. I can't help you."

Cautioning his now shell-shocked classmate, Murata shrugged to him aimlessly before beginning to walk away. "Stay away from the banister for the rest of the night and _try_ getting some rest. You have a mission to still complete if I'm not mistaken."

 

*

 

Sometimes Yuuri really, really disliked Ken Murata.

Only being able to sleep for an hour or two after their midnight conversation, tossing and turning over the Sage's wittingly discouraging words, over his skeptical temper, he resigned to the fact that the universe must have _loved_ to see him being tormented.

As everyone docked from the traveling ship onto Caloria land, Yuuri was ushered hurriedly by a grim-faced Conrad into one of the carriages taking them to Lady Flynn Gilbit. Feeling a bit stupid for forgetting to put on his 'human' disguise, he wiggled himself on his seat and grudgingly pulled out the red powder for his hair.

"A bit distracted today, Maoh-heika?" Chuckling, Lady Flynn waved halfhearted to him from across the other side of the moving carriage.

Yuuri send her a surprised but pleased smile. "Flynn-san? What are you doing here? Aren't we supposed to meet you at the estate?"

Her own smile wavered slightly, but the urgency in her aqua-green eyes grew alarmingly. "I needed to speak to you privately," she explained. "I have reason to believe that some of my most trusted associates are working for the same people who kidnapped your fiancé."

" _What_?" Yuuri jolted up from his carriage seat.

"There's more, Heika."

Acting almost as a mother comforting her upset child, she cradled one of his trembling hands between hers, softly callused to reveal evidence of garden work and the strenuous ritual of swordsmanship.

"We've seen your daughter."

 

  
*


	7. Chapter Seven

*

 

According to Lady Flynn's account on the carriage to her estate, Greta was alive.

Some of Caloria's soldiers heard rumors about a special prisoner being transported through the human town and the source went straight to her. The description seemed to match Greta: a relatively small child, female with short, brown-red hair and brown-colored eyes. The only problem there was was that no more information about where her captors transported her _to or from_ , or even where she might be at that very moment. Yosak volunteered to swing throughout parts of town to get more valid reports.

"Maoh-heika?"

Standing right beside him, resting with her bare arms on the open-air balcony of the manor, Lady Flynn searched her eyes nervously over his facial expression. He imagined sadly that if Wolfram had been present, the blond would have been hissing into his ear that he was _too close_ to the still single woman, or that her summer dress was _too indecent_ for such a formal visitation.

"I'm okay."

She smiled broadly at his somewhat monotonic response, countering him, "I apologize for disagreeing with you, Heika, but you look far from the definition of 'okay'."

_Am I that obvious…?_

Sinking forward to set his chin on his arms clutching the same open-air balcony, Yuuri made a small noncommittal noise with his mouth, never moving as someone else came from the grand doors behind them to join in. "Well, this is most certainly troubling."

_A woman…?_

Yuuri looked off to the right side where a pretty stranger— _definitely male in the contour of his blood red robe_ — peered at him both eagerly through his rosy glasses.

"Who are—?" He was about to question curiously about the stranger's presence but was snappishly interrupted by Lady Flynn who bowed curtly before him.

"Sararegi-heika. I was not expecting you to arrive this afternoon."

The long-haired boy grinned merrily (perhaps ignorant of the sudden hostility rolling off her aura) and nodded to acknowledge her courteousness. "It's perfectly alright. I wanted to surprise our new Maoh. It looks as if I succeeded in my goal. How do you do?" He stared back at Yuuri, intently.

"Maoh-heika, this is the young king of Small Shimaron."

Remembering his manners, the other boy gave a deeper bow than Lady Flynn, smiling back at him tentatively. "It's very nice to meet you…um, Sara," Yuuri greeted.

Reflected, pinkish-colored eyes widened momentarily before seeming to light up behind his specs.

"Indeed, let's do away with such dry formality. I like him already."

The blue-haired woman asserted, starting to raise a hand in protest, "Sararegi-heika, we are in the middle of a—"

"I have heard the news already." Without much reluctance on the matter, the new boy slipped his pale hand over Yuuri's, holding firm as he said, "If there is _anything_ I could help you with…"

Someone cleared their throat loudly. Yosak, sun-burnt from the ride back during mid-day, stared at their motionlessly linked hands with a mix of apparent confusion and mild disapproval. Blushing at what this could be misinterpreted as, Yuuri forced his fingers to push Sara's away. "U-uh... D-did you find anything?"

"I've figured out where the soldiers plan to stop next. It's the human town that had been previously invaded."

Bright blue eyes narrowed slightly as the young, foreign king inserted helpfully, "Since I am familiar with these lands, Yuuri-heika... I feel most obligated to offer my services to you."

As the other two adults raised an eyebrow at Sararegi's forwardness, effectively picking out how it combined with how he eyed the Maoh as a stealthy fox would eye a cornered rabbit, Yuuri thanked him with his usual, goofy smile.

 

*

 

Conrad couldn't say that he ever knew much about the new king of Small Shimaron, other than the rumors that he had been the youngest to be crowned in the country.

As he saddled up next to Yosak, they watched uncomplainingly as the Great Sage, Yuuri, and Sararegi climbed into the carriage directing them. Gesturing to other men readily, Lady Flynn took up the leather straps for reins. Beries, Sara's bodyguard (a powerful-looking man in a blackish colored cape and carrying with silver, twin swords), hoisted himself onto his own whinnying horse noiselessly, making purposeful eye contact with his king before riding ahead of the group.

As everyone rode deeper into the forestry backlands a couple miles out of the human town (thinking it better than using the main road where any spy could find them), the brown-haired swordsman trotted side-by-side with Yosak, and glanced at him casually.

"Stay with everyone."

"You're getting the feeling we're being closely followed too, Captain?"

Already keeping alongside the carriage, he repeated to Lady Flynn patiently, "I trust you to keep the carriage moving and not to turn back." She blinked at the soldier inquiringly as the only reaction but nevertheless tightened her hold on the horse's reins. Yuuri poked his head out of the window, asking, "Conrad?" as the man pulled back behind the assembly.

Jumping down from his stirrups, he drew out his glinting sword at the very moment their black-masked follower appeared from the thicket, holding out his own sword loosely.

As the other person took that moment to charge, leaping into the air and the point of the sword wielding down on him— Conrad blocked, his arm ringing in temporary ache from the force of the blow. Whoever they were— they knew exactly what they were doing.

" _Conrad_!"

He shouted back to his king's desperate cry, blocking another strike this time aimed for the side, "Yuuri, listen to me and stay back!"

Conrad gave a bruising blow to the shoulder. He noticed dimly as the fight continued on for a minute or so that their follower did not show interest in pursuing after the other party, and that this style was… recognizable somehow. Just as a winded Yuuri ran up behind him, hands around Morgif, his opponent took the chance to vanish unseen into the trees

 

*

 

Even Morgif was reprimanding him!

Regardless of the truth that he had been risking his life by coming to help Conrad, Yuuri wasn't sorry. Well, maybe for making Lady Flynn and Sararegi worry— _but other than that_!

Frowning down at his moaning sword, Yuuri scratched at his red-powdered scalp, wandering through the marketplace with his female companion and Conrad. As a couple bystanders looked around for the source of the strange noise, he shushed nastily at the haunting face on his sword, " _Will you stop making so much noise_ — jeez, why did I bother to disguise myself?"

"I think this may be the reason, Heika." Conrad's direct gaze led Yuuri to stare at a wooden cart next to a fruit stand overflowing with glittering red stones.

 _Houseki_.

Rubbing an upper arm solemnly in remembrance of the how it had affected the Maou— draining him of breath— _deteriorating_ someone so impressive in Maryoku— he began to question grimly if that was how the kidnappers trapped Wolfram. _A dirty trick.  
_

Yuuri jolted surprised from his musings as Murata touched his elbow, tilting his head to the left.

Sara's bodyguard had two bearded commoners in a headlock as three other younger men laid flat on the ground, groaning dazed, one bleeding freely from the nose. From within the unlit area of the tavern where this had all occurred at the front of, Sararegi pushed aside the rotting timber door for Yosak cradling a bundle in both of his arms. Yuuri's heart jammed itself pulsing hot and hard into the center of his throat.

In burly arms, a sweating Greta twisted faintly, eyes rolling up to the back of her head.

Helping Yuuri come forward, Lady Flynn encouraged the boy to kneel down with the soldier, checking the little girl's temperature. "A fever," she observed.

"She's been drugged, Young Master," Yosak said, reading Yuuri's expression. "The men who were moving her only fed her sedatives." The blue-haired woman set the small child into Yuuri's arms, informing him with a reassuring tone, "It appears to be a small reaction from overexposure. She will be fine after she rests, Maoh-heika."

" _Wolfram…wolfram…daddy_ "

As thin, wet streams of tears swelled from the corners of her shuddering eyelids, the others backed away for privacy as Yuuri gasped in a soft meaningless rhythm, covering his also wetting face from sight into her blouse and held her closer, as a child would to his most cherished belonging, to his trembling body.

 

*

 

— _Where is he_ …?

_What if you fail…what will you do then?_

— _I can't fail._

_What if you do?_

— _Wolfram would hate me._

_Everyone already thinks you don't care about him enough._

— _I'll prove them wrong._

_Isn't that selfish?_

— _How…?_

_Wishing to save someone else's life to prove something to other people._

 

*

 

Curled up to himself feebly in a single plush chair, the black-haired king drifted back into reality from a dreamless sleep, slowly becoming aware of his environment. The only other person in the medium-sized room had been gazing deliberately at his sleeping figure.

"I must confess something to you, Yuuri-heika."

Red-rimmed eyes took a quick look over to Sararegi who stared back unsmiling but honest, "I find myself feeling sympathy for your current situation. I do not usually feel so strongly for others and since most of these lands I rule over may be responsible for your fiancé's kidnapping— I desire to use the full capacity of my resources to aid you in your search."

Yuuri croaked, forcing a positive smile, "It would mean a lot to me."

"Afterward, I would like you to return to my kingdom so that we may discuss joining hands in friendship with Shin Makoku." Noticing the other boy's silence, Sararegi added, "If a king is the voice of his people, then I would like to be on your side, Yuuri-heika."

"Please, call me Yuuri like we're friends. I want to be your friend, Sara." This time, Yuuri smiled with actual feeling behind it.

He slowly rose up, holding out his hand to be touched, and clasped Sararegi's smooth one warmly when it did.

"This fiancé of yours, I think, is very lucky to have someone such as yourself who cares so much about him." Sararegi chuckled lightly as he fiddled with a lens on his rose-colored glasses, "Though I'm presuming that is something unspoken since you are indeed engaged to each other."

"It's—"

Standing just outside the sitting room, beckoning wordlessly to interrupt the two boys to join them on her balcony, Lady Flynn addressed Yuuri first as he approached, "Your daughter is sleeping in my bedroom, Maoh-heika. By tomorrow, her fever will be gone."

"Thank you."

"What is your next course of action?"

Under the fixed looks of his companions, his stomach began to sink in realization. He _didn't_ have another plan. Other than just saving Wolfram.

Coming to his rescue, Sararegi spoke up, "I was just offering Yuuri-heika an opportunity to stay at my castle. I have an extensive amount of maps of the human lands around and in my kingdom. It had caught his interest." A light brown eye peeked out of his glasses ( _'play along; I would like to help you_ '). "And I also offered for his honored escorts and himself to stay for a few days. Correct?"

"Then allow me the privilege of taking care of your daughter while you are gone." Aqua green eyes offered encouragement to him.

Yosak twisted his hands behind his neck, opening one eye as he suggested staying as well for increased security.

"Be weary of your surroundings, please," Lady Flynn whispered in his ear as the other males filed out into the main house of the estate, pinning her gaze to the other king.

Murmuring back to her, Yuuri stepped away, "Is there any particular reason why you act coldly to him?"

Sensing that he was a bit displeased by her recent attitude, a detached smile plastered over her features.

"If Maoh-heika trusts him, then I have no reason to feel worried."

 

  
*


	8. Chapter Eight

*

 

How many more days passed since Greta's disappearance…... how many more before his abductor's ransom would not be met and they would dispose of him…... before he could find an escape route…... before his mind would collapse in on itself?

Retching silently with his burning hot forehead flat against the cold stone wall of his chamber, Wolfram fought against his sweating, dirty body ordering him to lie down, digging the blunt ends of his fingernails decisively into the stone he could not see. He wouldn't move. He wouldn't give into a command that wasn't his to give.

Gulping loudly for air as the fits passed into irregular spasms, his wits lost the thread of concentration he had on his situation and vaguely into where everyone presently was.

…if Yuuri could save Greta, _he would_ , he could die here more or less without regret.

"You appear lively today, Bielfeld." His abductor, the one who tightened his lungs as he entered, strolled lightly in his direction— again, the door did not shut behind him.

_Was he taunting him?_

"I thought you would resist a little more to my power as you had initially. Hmm, perhaps you are adapting…?" At that, Wolfram viciously spat at him, bitterly hoping at least it would land on his slippers. The other male laughed outright. "I suppose I spoke too soon. You are a vile creature, aren't you?"

Wolfram choked weakly as cool but _strong_ hands pressed unkindly, wringing his throat, and slamming him back against the wall as the voice changed from satisfaction to a cruel bite, "I wonder why the Maoh even bothers to have you around." At the impact, Wolfram grimaced visibly as the bruise layering his entire left shoulder shrieked in pain.

"Did you injure your shoulder, Bielfeld? Careless lord brat."

Gentle amusement returned to the other male's tone, addressing the Mazoku as if he were a special pet. As the hands left Wolfram's neck, the blond waited motionlessly and blindly for the painful ringing in his head to die down. "Your heartbeat picks up when I get closer to you, but is it fear you have of me? But why is this? I have treated you quite well physically."

Wolfram could almost feel the leer coming off of him as the same hands that had callously restrained him against the chamber wall, unceremoniously trailed over the fabric of his uniform now, as one or two cunning fingertips managed to lift the hem, brushing against the bare, muscled skin of his stomach.

As he flinched away from the contact, incapable of lifting his own hands to shove his kidnapper away ( _no matter how BADLY he wanted_ ), another laugh echoed in the darkness.

"After all…you did respond that kiss, even if you were under the impression that it was your beloved Maou."

Blushing angrily, shamefully, Wolfram glowered openly.

"Or maybe you do want more." Instead of reddening, Wolfram blanched in shock as his kidnapper touched his chest, holding him firm to the wall. A series of hot bursts of another's breath ghosting over his cheek. "I should consider being merciful and granting your wish."

Summoning all his remaining strength, Wolfram spat once more, this time directly hitting his face as he tore himself away, sprinting for the open door.

This time…

He stumbled, clutching at his damp shirt as Wolfram's heart began to slow on its own agonizingly, as his very blood vessels pounded from the overexertion, his trembling, free hand probing for the door handle.

_Shut the door…have to shut the door—_ **NO.**

Wolfram growled, aggravated as his hand obeyed of its own will separate from his, shutting out his blackened vision, as it closed off his only means of breaking out.

"Good boy. Now lock it."

 

*

 

_"Yuuri."_

…

_Standing directly in the sunlight, leaning on a stone pillar, the blond Mazoku spoke his name to him as he had been expecting him, the syllables slightly accented in Japanese as they passed his upturned lips._

…

 

*

 

"Yuuri-heika?"

Round, black eyes fluttered open hesitantly as the teenage boy found himself spread out comfortably on a long, luxurious couch. Above him, Sararegi asked concerned, looking somewhere between needing to fetch assistance and soothing the other boy, "You've been calling for someone in your sleep for a while now. Are you alright?"

Groaning at a headache starting to form behind his eyes, Yuuri pushed his palm to his nose, sitting up slowly without getting dizzy as he thought he might. "No, no, fine."

He glanced around bewildered at the overly magnificent room filled with miniature crystal chandeliers; bronze statues the size of garden gnomes but far more elegantly designed as finely chiseled, partially robed angels; two or three onyx-stone gargoyles; life-size marble busts of regal and serious-looking strangers, and dark blue tapestries.

Overwhelmed by the sight, Yuuri could only manage an unintelligible " _Eh_ …?"

"This is one of the many drawing rooms of my castle. Welcome to Small Shimaron, Yuuri-heika." The king motioned for permission to join him. Yuuri left him a good five inches of space on the couch.

"At the present time, your companions should be getting acquitted with thekr rooms. My servants were quick to help them. You had fallen asleep during our journey and I had your guard leave you until you were awake."

_Probably means Conrad…_

A faint knock sounded from behind one of the drawing room's rosewood doors. As Sararegi called them in, a young maid clad in a dress a similar blue to the tapestries carried in a tray of assorted drinks and foods. Sararegi smiled earnestly at her as she set it down unsteadily at the table in front of Yuuri. "Thank you, Hana."

She squeaked once fearfully, bowing down before scurrying out.

"Is she okay?"

Sararegi smiled again this time at no one particular, in a more cheerless fashion than previously.

"Yes… she is a little shy of me. It has been this way for some time." He gazed knowingly at Yuuri distracted by the various paintings nailed the walls.

"Are these—?"

"Oil paintings. All of my family." The blond king answered the underlying question in Yuuri's too honest eyes, "They are no longer in the world of living. I had no siblings growing up and lost my parents to death early on. My guardian and bodyguard Beries has arranged my education and essentially my life."

Sympathetically, Yuuri said, "So you had no one."

"My servants have always been very nice to me," Sararegi replied now happily, the subject matter not seeming to bother him, "if not a little hesitant of me."

 _I've noticed_.

"They fear me. They believe I have supernatural powers." He chuckled as if it were a funny joke, winking, "I have heard that Yuuri-heika has such powers, no?"

Yuuri admitted, clasping his tan hands together in his lap, "The Maoh does. I can't really do anything." He stared down at the floor, glumly. His eyes rose up as the young king stood up suddenly.

"Tomorrow, I should like to show you around the grounds. It has been a trying day for everyone and I can see you are exhausted."

Yuuri disagreed, straightening up, "I'm actually—" Maybe his eyes were playing with him, but Yuuri could have swore that he saw a fleeting flash ( _of blue light?…what?)_ signaled by the rims of rose-colored glasses. His limbs numbing and his once weightless eyelids were sinking over his eyes alarmingly fast.

He heard Conrad's voice…asking about him…Sara saying he was falling asleep… _no, I'm not tired…I…wasn't…_

 

*

 

_Most of his pale features were blurred by the intensity of the white light surrounding him except for his emerald green eyes searching him and the shine of his yellow hair as Wolfram repeated his name, unfolding one of his blue-clothed arms from behind his back, stretching out a hand accompanied with a soft, serene smile._

_"Will you come with me?"_

— _Where?_

_"It wouldn't matter, would it? As long as you are with me." His hand never wavered from its position in mid-reach, as he admitted, "If I have you, Yuuri, I want nothing more from this world."_

— _That's not right. Wolfram, don't you have ambitions? Goals?_

_"To become a great soldier. To protect my country and its people. Those never changed when you arrived, but new ones were made along with them." Emerald green brightened with tears, whether they were in sadness or joy couldn't be told._

_"To remain by your side, to protect you from those who would harm you. To keep your ideals unbroken while you were away. To raise Greta with you into the beautiful, young woman she is destined to become one day. I never tried to persuade you into becoming something you couldn't possibly be for me."_

— _Couldn't become…?_

_"Always ignorant, Yuuri." Wolfram let out a small laugh, curling his long fingers inwards to his wrist, his shoulder dropping. "It may be one of your finer qualities I came to both hate but expect most from you."_

— _I want to understand…_

_"There was never anyone stopping you other than yourself." A line of dark red liquid slithered out from the corner of the blond's condemning mouth. From behind Wolfram, a soldier with a heavy steel helmet wedged his blood-shining sword deeper into the boy's torso, as bright green deadened over._

 

*

 

Howling his companion's name in his half conscious sleep, Yuuri screamed raw at the top of his lungs, jolting upright as if his whole body experienced a severe convulsion. He gripped onto the strange, beige-colored sheets in the strange bed, clapping a hand over his mouth as a large tremor of nausea seized his stomach.

Wolfram… no…

 

  
*


	9. Chapter Nine

*

 

For the rest of morning, Murata deliberately avoided his classmate.

Yuuri was still under the impression that no one had heard him violently awake from his nightmare— the connecting walls between their spacious rooms were surprisingly thin.

He did not greet him in the hallway as Yuuri emerged from the bathroom that same morning, pale around the edges and wiping his lips frantically with the back of his right hand.

 

*

 

"…And here is where we keep most of the wildBlossoms…our tea makers use —" The blond king graciously took a moment from motioning to the massive flower garden to his right and glanced behind to his privileged guest, raising an eyebrow inquiringly at his dull facial appearance, "—Is this boring you, Yuuri?"

"Actually, I was hoping to see those maps you mentioned earlier."

As a response to the instant cut in his tone, one of Sararegi's eyebrows arched higher still. "The sooner I can find Wolfram, the better," Yuuri explained.

"If you desired them so urgently, you need only mention it to me."

He gave Yuuri an unreadable smile as he ordered a servant boy walking by to fetch them before clasping onto Yuuri's arm, tugging him back down the elegant, coral-pink footpath as the other boy flinched somewhat, "While we are waiting, we can resume the tour of the Southern gardens. As I mentioned, the wildBlossoms help produce exceptional tea—"

 

*

 

Irritated beyond thinking straight, Yuuri stormed the extensively large grounds for the main entrance into the castle an hour or so later.

His brilliant plan was to _somehow_ find an empty bedroom (lately it seemed like _every_ room had a spectator, either pretending to clean or tidy up as he entered), grab a pillow from the nameless bed, and either suffocate himself until he could no longer feel provoked or release a long, muffled scream into it.

Yuuri had not expected spending that much time with Sararegi in the afternoon to become as irksome as it had. The overwrought teenager could have sworn that he sensed no urgency from the other boy to discuss maps. It was like he expected Yuuri to relax, as if he was suppose to be on _vacation_. In turn, it had made him feel more stressed and worried.

… And there was something else off about him.

It was like Sara didn't even _care_ about Wolfram being in trouble.

Growling softly under his breath, one of his hands eased through his shoulder-length black hair, fingers scraping forcibly into his scalp as Yuuri's impatience rose. That guy was seriously beginning to drive him crazy. And where the _HELL_ were the front doors?

_Wolfram. I'm going to find you, even if you don't want to be found._

Hoping secretly that Sararegi wouldn't get the desire to find him until later, Yuuri successfully discovered another set of outdoor, rosewood doors as another guest stepped out into the sunshine. Murata eyed him coolly in the entrance way. "You finally decided to step out of the gardens?"

Suspiciously, Yuuri eyed the other boy back, not at all fond of how reproachful he sounded, echoing the sentiments back, "What about it?"

"It seemed like you were enjoying yourself with Small Shimaron's King. It makes one wonder if you have entirely forgotten the purpose of coming at all."

"What are you trying to say?"

Stern, black eyes behind his lenses flashed.

"I'm _saying,_ Shibuya, that you should take a break from _flirting_ and reconsider the reasons for turning up in this human country. Have you disregarded so easily the fact that Lord von Bielefeld, _your fiancé_ — who if he was in your place, would have realized by now that this guy is not interested in finding you and left— is in a very grave situation? Do I have to continue to spell everything out for you?"

Somewhere between the words _flirting_ and _disregarded_ , Yuuri's body braced itself as he had been physical struck in such a crushing manner and in everyplace vulnerable.

 

*

 

Ken Murata never thought he would see the day. Let alone in his lifetime.

Dark eyes filling with tears, his usually smiling and mild-mannered facial expression reddening in generous amounts of mingled fury and indignity as Yuuri yelled out, " _You don't think I know this, too_?" Watching him now, having been jostled aside by the deeply confused boy, the Great Sage pushed himself back onto his feet effortlessly. He let out an amused noise.

Did Shibuya just admit to both of them (perhaps even for a second, unaware of it) the potential of a romantic relationship… and that it involved the fiery, blond soldier…?

 

*

 

Once again, Yuuri woke up alone the next day.

There was just something so… _unfulfilling_ about the current situation. Maybe Yuuri had gotten use to having company in his bed (but that didn't compel him to run into Conrad's room like a baby and snuggle under the covers with his godfather— his inner Wolfram glowered noticeably and spitefully at the very ' _indecent_ ' thought).

The unfulfilling part also had to do with the lingering aftereffects of his early morning dream.

Mortified and extremely warm in his cheeks, the teenage boy shifted, squeezing his legs together in the sheets. The dream wasn't _bad_ per say… and it hadn't been the first he ever had involving his familiar, blond bedmate. It was common fact that Wolfram was physically _gorgeous_. Anyone could have known that. So the first couple nights in the past when he experienced those sorts of pleasurable dreams, Yuuri found it a bit odd only that Wolfram was never portrayed as a girl in them.

…

 _This one was not much different from the others_ — _oh, and many others there had been_ — _a fully naked Wolfram sat between Yuuri's crooked legs supported by the mattress of their indigo-sheeted bed, pressing one aside with a friendly hand on his thigh as he lifted his marble white body over Yuuri's. The other boy gasped softly, in want, as the hand on his thigh shifted onto his erection. Wolfram's eyes lit up lustfully, gladly as the tan face below strained up quietly in arousal._

…

He blushed a little harder, feeling it creep down the front of his chest, warming his skin as he automatically hugged his pillow, waiting for the excited sensation to cool down.

But was it really... the fact he had gotten use to Wolfram that made him feel like this?

…

 _"But you don't_ LIKE _me. As I do you."_

— _I was raised like this. Guys didn't marry guys where I'm from. But that doesn't mean I hate you._

_"Your word? Anything?"_

— _Circumstances... they can change._ _I would do anything to make this easier for us. To make you see that..._

_"Then you must do this one thing for me and you have to swear to me right now to never break your word."_

— _My words, my actions even as king to our country mean very little to everyone else. To the people I should trust. But you, Wolfram, you yell at me all the time and try to fix my mistakes, but I think you trust me too unlike everyone else. I need that._

_"You must promise never to fall in love with me."_

 

*

 

Scrambling onto his feet after a couple deep breathes, Yuuri stripped down from his pajamas to change into his normal clothes, wandering purposely from the master guest bedroom down the corridor's winding, blood-red carpet. It narrowed down, disappearing from underneath the crack of the audience room's double doors. Pausing a moment to signal his presence, Yuuri knocked twice accordingly before pushing open.

_Murata is right. This is stupid. I'm leaving. There has to be another way to find Wolfram._

"Yuuri, what a pleasure," Sararegi said lazily from his grand throne, a slow smile spreading over his face as he gestured him forward with the tilt of his long fingers.

"Somehow I was expecting you to seek an audience with me."

Yuuri bowed respectfully and sincerely before the other king who smirked bizarrely wide.

"My friends and I appreciate everything you have done for us, but we need to search other places..." he began awkwardly, " _uhm_ …"

"I do not believe you have received the distinguished honor of meeting the newest servant to my castle. I would have most certainly introduced you earlier but I daresay he becomes most troublesome at times." Light brown eyes slit behind rose-colored glasses as he chuckled, the motion causing Yuuri's own eyes to narrow back inquiringly in response. "Nevertheless, I believe you two should meet before your departure. If you feel he is worthy enough, I might consider selling him to you."

Snapping his fingers, Sararegi glanced over Yuuri's head to the black-clothed figure securing the audience room's doors with heavy locks.

_What the heck…... the ninja from the woods…?_

The masked stranger drew out his sword without hesitation, charging forward soundlessly to Yuuri who fell back, quickly sliding Morgif out on his hip to block the hit as a loud _clang!_ of two swords ricocheted off the great walls, one moaning rudely at impact. As the ninja stiffened, Yuuri took his chance to tackle the other fighter onto the floor, wrestling the antique red-gem sword from his grasp.

 _Wait_ …

Dropping the swords, Yuuri leaned over, tugging the faceplate free of the person beneath him.

One of his perspiring hands reached down to scoop up a spill of yellow blond hair. He stared wide-eyed at the glimpse of deadened, green eyes. The very same ache from a morning ago, the sour moment before he knew he would become violently sick, that bulge of queasiness turned itself in his throat.

"So... you both _have_ met before? What a," Sararegi's voice seemed to be everywhere at once, "pleasant surprise."

Yuuri couldn't quite catch his breath. He looked up at the human king in disbelief.

" _What have you done to him_...?"

"Your _fiancé_ , dear Yuuri, is not strong enough to resist my 'hints'. His inherent magical abilities opened a channel for my own powers to control his body without much effort. My plans to lure you to my kingdom could not have worked more to my advantage." Sararegi stood from his throne, making full eye contact with the other king. "Though I cannot understand why the Maoh would desire such a weak creature... his beauty is _certainly_ something to admire."

For a second or two, light brown eyes traced over the heavily panting blond. Yuuri's teeth clenched on the tip of his tongue until he could taste something akin to copper.

The same hue of brown eyes met jet black, mirroring glowing blue. Yuuri lost track of time as he remained glaring back until Wolfram stepped into view. Astonished, Yuuri realized after a moment that he had been thoughtlessly coming forward to the blond king. If Wolfram had not broke the connection...

Eyelids fluttered over darkening green, shining with sweat.

"... _out_."

"Not without you," Yuuri countered, lifting a howling Morgif into a defensive position.

He directed his question to the other king, staring at Sararegi's neck instead of his eyes, "What was the point of bringing us here? Is it a war against the Mazoku?"

"I have no means for a battle of any sort. The importance is _you_ , Yuuri."

His dark eyebrows furrowed. Yuuri didn't think he was going to agree to any terms going to be made. Call it Maoh intuition.

"As the Maoh of this world, you hold a vast amount of destructive energy and influential power. I would like to have that. To possess you would do just as well. Letting me obtain your power and your being would more than enough pay to set Wolfram von Bielefeld free."

"So you kidnapped Wolfram to blackmail me?"

Crossing his light purple, robed arms snugly against his chest, the human king asked, placidly, "Have you ever heard your fiancé cry out, Yuuri? ...that delicious high wail of agony...? It's the little noises you pay the most attention to. Have you ever had the opportunity to explore his sweet little mouth? There's a small spot on the back of the roof—"

Yuuri moved automatically, raising his sword as Wolfram's hand clamped rock-hard on his wrist to prevent him. Sararegi smirked.

Wolfram twitched, his spine arching inwards as he screamed soundlessly once, falling to the red carpet and dragging his companion down with him. The other boy grasped him up by the shoulders, yelling, " _Stop it, Sara! It's hurting him!_ " Yuuri clasped the trembling body against his chest, wrapping protective arms around Wolfram's head.

"Wolfram, this is my fault. All of this is my fault."

He confessed in a whisper, not really caring if Sararegi heard him, and grateful that he could still feel the heat of breath sinking into the cloth of his uniform, digging his fingertips tenderly into yellow blond hair, "I know that I've held a prejudice against your feelings, what I knew, and I'm sorry. I thought about it early on when I knew you as a friend. And I thought about it when I didn't have you with me.

"And...I'm empty without you, Wolfram. It can't be because I'm used to having you around all the time. You haunt me wherever I am. And sometimes it's easier that way when I think I can't get through something. I told you I wouldn't break my promise. I swore to it, but I have to... no, I _want_ to. I want us to stupid... _romantic_ things like having a picnic just to spend time with each other, and talk about what happened that day, and I want to hold your hand just to see what you would say or do to me."

Yuuri tightened his hold. Gentle, tan fingers gripped the blue fabric of Wolfram's shoulders. "I want to go home, Wolfram. Don't you want to go home with me? You can beat me up for breaking my promise to you. I'll even pretend that I'm afraid of you and start running. You can chase me down until I get tired. That's how it works... and I _can't leave_ without you."

With his ear lowered near Wolfram's mouth, he distinctly heard a breathy gasp, _"yuuri...leave...now_."

Pretending for a moment that he wasn't afraid in this dark situation, Yuuri sighed as if he was disappointed. "It figures that when I start getting corny and emotional, you would still ignore it. Listen, I don't have a problem dragging you back to Shin Makoku, kicking and screaming—" He forced a wide smile.

"You treat this as if it were entertainment to you, Yuuri-maoh. Are you aware of your circumstances?"

"Whatever you want to accomplish, Sara, you don't care who you hurt on the way there. I'm sorry but I'm going home with my friends. Eventually, I'll step in, Maoh or not."

Sararegi's facial expression twisted up. The double doors to the audience room broke down with a thundering crash, and a globe-shaped explosion of soothing blue light enveloped the couple just below the steps of the throne.

Yuuri lost a sense of self as blackness covered everything.

  
*


	10. Chapter Ten

*

 

His pillow...happened to be a quite warm and soft one. Did Shori not forget the fabric softener to wash the sheets and pillowcases again for him...? Yuuri would have to ask his Mom to drive him to school… five more minutes in bed and he would miss the school bus… not like he couldn't bike there himself, but she _insisted_ …

" _I think he's coming to…_ "

Murata was… in bed… with him…?

Yuuri's eyes shot open in horror as he woke to hard ground. The other boy crouched over him and snickered, "Not even in your dreams, Shibuya."

_Didn't I say to stop reading my thoughts…?_

Conrad appeared beside Murata, frowning with intense concern. "Are you alright, Heika?"

"He landed alright, didn't he?" The Great Sage glanced around the room as if he greatly pleased with himself. "The Maoh finally made his appearance. Lord Weller and I managed to knock out the bodyguard on the way here." His eyes paused over a figure lolling on the red carpet. Yuuri watched a drooling Sararegi spasm uncontrollably.

Answering the apparent question in his eyes, Murata said, "Do you remember that cute little maid Hana? Well, she told us something very interesting today about humans with strong magic."

He dug into his pants pocket, pulling out a sapphire-blue gemstone the size of a balled up fist.

"It has the same properties as a Houseki stone would on a powerful Mazoku."

Yuuri suddenly panicked, images of the dying blond running wild in his mind's eye. "Where's Wolfram? Is he—?"

"I'm right here, wimp."

An upside down Wolfram stared down at him with a critical look in his green eyes.

Not in pain, not crying, not lifeless, just somewhat annoyed. The usual way Wolfram looked at Yuuri at times. As soon as Yuuri tried to sit up, rambling some sort of garbled apology through heavy lips, the Mazoku placed his palm over Yuuri's forehead and forced him back into a lying position on his lap. " _Fool_ , don't get up so quickly! I won't enjoy carrying you back..." he complained.

"I have to disagree with you, Lord von Bielefeld. Despite being held up in that cell made of Houseki stones for several days, the Maoh completely healed you."

Blushing a little, the fire-caster scowled, "Yes… well…" He yelped once loudly in surprise as Yuuri's lazy fingers strayed over Wolfram's upper leg, as they climbed into his own black hair, Yuuri mumbled tiredly, " _Why am I so dizzy_..." He felt the sensation of someone untangling his hand from his hair and brushing against his face. Then nothing else.

 

*

 

Being back home in Shin Makoku felt, honestly, _fantastic_.

Having Greta running around like nothing had changed, no one had been separated, was even better. The air between the royal couple however was still tense after two days.

Yuuri hardly got a chance to talk to Wolfram about anything that had happened. He kept mostly his words short and curt, disappeared frequently (though assuredly it was somewhere he was needed, like training his soldiers— Yosak informed him after the demon king asked him secretly to sweep the grounds for his location), and the moments before sleep were completely and utterly silent. Their little girl rarely ever shared the bed nowadays and preferred her own little purple room down the hall.

On the way to Gwendal's office one day, awake enough to sign new treaties with some newly-risen human lands, Yuuri slumped his shoulders backwards and let out a noisy yawn.

"How undignified of you."

Up against a nearby stone pillar, Wolfram leaned with his arms crossed strictly against his blue uniform shirt. That was the most he had spoken to him since they had gotten back. ( _I'm not even certain if Wolfram wants to talk to me again._ ) Yuuri took his opportunity as he could seize it.

He opened his mouth and in mid-formed word, the blond interrupted him, glaring, " _Wimp_ , you thought that if you were to apologize... it would make everything normal?"

Meekly, Yuuri tilted his head down.

"… _possibly_ …?"

"If you ever want to reach that goal, you will be doing a lot more groveling." Emerald green hardened. "Did you actually mean it when you said that you broke your promise to me?"

He was not going to lie to Wolfram. Not ever.

"Yes."

Shoulders stiffening, Yuuri didn't know what to expect from an approaching Wolfram with his determined face. Set him on fire? Punch him in the gut? Curse him out?

"I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to hear this from you, Yuuri."

Yuuri gaped, his jaw slowly slipping unhinged— an unbecoming " _EHHHHH?_ " escaping him before being cut off by Wolfram's mouth pushing awkwardly into his parted lips. The first instinct to slap-and-run would have most definitely served a useless purpose. Strongly muscled and yet thin arms enfolded around his neck as Wolfram pressed a little harder against him, as if urging him to react in some way. Yuuri returned the hug around Wolfram's waist and pulled away, still somewhat shell-shocked.

"I-I thought you were mad at me."

"Of course I'm mad, you wimp. I would be mistaken not to be." Green eyes softened as he peered back. "But I… love you as well."

Mutually grinning, they moved in again for a kiss, this time Yuuri blushing pleasantly as Wolfram's tongue collided with his, stubbornly.

Somewhere off in the haze of reality, someone giggled loudly. One of the newer maids rushed by with a basket of white sheets, smiling giddily as both boys threw themselves from each other. The Mazoku growled frustrated at her retreating figure before realizing the obvious glint in Yuuri's eyes. "What is it?"

"You said you wouldn't take me back. And that…" Yuuri braced his fists into his sides, sadness made evident in the cracking of his voice, "you wouldn't ask for me..."

"My pride and my nobility alone will not allow my word to be broken. What has been said is absolute." Wolfram said, firmly, "I would have to renounce my title."

"Wolfram, that's _ridiculous_! You don't have to go that extreme—"

The other boy hissed angrily through his bared teeth, "Then you suggest that we run away together? To what, _your_ world where they teach such bigotry and intolerant values to their youth?" Desperately, Yuuri groaned and sunk to the stone pathway, smacking his head against the wall.

"What then... _what_ are we suppose to do...?"

Wolfram turned around, squaring the view of his back, as he managed to speak without any emotion, and as he stomped on his own bleeding heart.

"Accept the terms."

 

*

 

What he wouldn't give for a damn pin...

"Yuuri?"

Conrad poked his head into the chamber room, examining the his king struggling to fasten his violet-colored sash to his shoulder. "They are ready for you."

The Demon King of Shin Makoku moaned, childishly, "Why do I always feel sick before I go to one of these meetings?"

"If you need me, I will be right outside the door," assured the swordsman, grinning humorously.

Yuuri made an exasperated face at him before trudging over to the opposite door. The moment he opened the door, professionalism and a smile fixed over his young features.

"Thank you for your time."

Stoffel bowed immediately along with the rest of the members of the long table as Yuuri took his seat among them. "No, no, Maoh-heika! Thank _you_ for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us!" Somewhere on the far right, Gwendal snorted faintly. Looking somewhat confused by the sudden grimace by their King, Stoffel was shoved aside and replaced by Von Wincott— definitely Julia's brother with his curly, light blue hair— who spread out his arms invitingly.

"This should not take long. As you are well aware of, the king of Small Shimaron has been detained and we would like you to meet with other candidates for holding the throne."

Yuuri agreed, "Of course."

Stoffel stepped back into view, grinning. "As to be expected of our Maoh, we were also impressed by your valor during such dire circumstances." This was met by a couple nods and whispers. "We would, as the Families, like to discuss another personal matter with you. Regarding Wolfram von Bielefeld and yourself—"

The stocky, bearded man backed up a step as the atmosphere in the meeting room noticeably dropped in temperature.

Yuuri rose out of the front chair provided for him to plant his fingers roughly into the table, voice darkening.

"While I believe it's in your power to question me and my practices as King of Shin Makoku, the business between me and Wolfram von Bielefeld is private. Neither one of us has to answer to any suspicions or accusations made by anyone. What we decide to do with the engagement is our own decision to make." Yuuri narrowed his black eyes at the occupants of the room, purposely ignoring the astonishment coming off of everyone. "I'm not interested in marrying out of gain. I'm not interested in marrying anyone else for that matter."

To his left, Lord von Karbelnikoff chuckled amiably. "So…when I should I expect an wedding invitation…?"

The teenager would have gone pink if Von Wincott had not added, "We understand this, Heika, but arrangements for a marriage have already been made. If you find our choice satisfactory, we wish you the best. If not, further discussion will have to be listed for a later date." He glanced at Stoffel who went for the doors behind Yuuri.

_I…I don't want this…._

"We think you will be quite pleased with our choice."

Yuuri took a deep breath, ready to turn on that carefully constructed smile for the poor soul forced into this charade, already planning his future rejection speech for the Families. In the middle of his self-reflection of placing the traditional line ' _you can all go straight to hell'_ in his plans, the double doors swing unlocked.

Von Wincott motioned towards a grinning Wolfram in the doorway.

"Is this a suitable proposal?"

.

.

.

 

 

 

.

.

.

" _Ahh_...!"

Clearly in hearing distance, the noises behind twin, maple-colored doors increased as several tall male figures passed by, stilling their talk.

"Yuuri...not _theeere_...!" Wolfram's throaty voice groaned. Two of the males sweat-dropped as their spastic companion swayed precariously on his own feet, pressing an ear insistently to the wood.

Joining in with the little whines, Yuuri's purr of a voice rose, "I think... I got it now. How about here...?"

" _Mmm_...yesss..."

The unbolted bedroom doors to the Maoh's private chambers burst open wildly as a whirl of lilac and white rushed in, crying out melodramatically, " _Heeeeeeikkkaaaaaa!_ "

Stretched out with his stomach flat on the mattress, the blond Mazoku propped himself up on his elbows, thoroughly irritated about the fact that Yuuri's gentle hands massaging into his _very_ sore back (revenge was called for since Dorcas had not sufficiently broken in the new stallion) removed themselves completely.

Instead of blaming his new husband (who was currently scooting into a sitting position on the mattress as oppose to the deep straddle against Wolfram's lower hips, and flushing hotly), Wolfram glowered fiercely at the intruder to his relaxation and his brothers standing in the corridor.

"I believe _manners_ still exist in this country."

 

  
*


End file.
